


Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips (We should just kiss like real people do)

by Some_Dead_Guy



Series: Grindeldore Oneshots [9]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Declarations Of Love, First Kiss, Flower Crowns, Fluff, M/M, The summer of 1899, Young Albus Dumbledore, Young Gellert Grindelwald, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 18:09:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21414439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Some_Dead_Guy/pseuds/Some_Dead_Guy
Summary: Gellert has an ‘oh’ moment.Or, Gellert realizes he’s in love with Albus Dumbledore.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald
Series: Grindeldore Oneshots [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1510523
Comments: 10
Kudos: 157
Collections: My Bookmark





	Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips (We should just kiss like real people do)

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read! Sorry for all the mistakes, and each are my own!

Gellert is leaned against a tree, Albus between his thighs, and Gellert’s fingers run through his hair. Gellert twines golden flowers through the fiery red strands, and he pretends that his heart is not beating out of his chest and that what he’s doing is not making his face flush pleasantly. 

Albus is supposedly reading, resting most of his weight against Gellert’s chest, warm and heavy and comfortable. His hair is soft in Gellert’s hands, and Albus hums absently every once in a while, pushing into Gellert’s touch. Gellert is horribly heated, and he tells himself that it’s because of the heat and humidity of the summer air and nothing else.

“Having fun?” Albus teases, and Gellert can hear the smile in his voice even though he can’t see it.

“Immensely.” Gellert smiles back, continues to braid flowers into his auburn hair, “Are you enjoying reading the same page over and over again?”

Gellert laughs when Albus sputters, because Gellert had noticed that for the past ten minutes Albus hasn’t turned the page let alone even genuinely look at his book.

“You’re distracting me.” Albus pouts, finally closing his book and placing it to the side. Albus turns slightly, and even though Gellert can see only half of his face, he notices Albus is flushed rather prettily from his cheeks all the way down his neck.

“Don’t move.” He mumbles, tilting Albus’s head back, feeling his own face burn even more.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Albus complains, though he doesn't sound particularly bothered.

“Yes, now hush.” Gellert admonishes, pulling his hands away from Albus’s head and looking at his work. 

Two braids circle his head and meet in the middle, flowers wrapped in them like a crown. The excess hair curls against his shoulders, and Gellert feels satisfied with what he’s done.

“Turn around.” Gellert instructs, and Albus groans dramatically as if he’s being terribly inconvenienced, and Gellert is about to playfully tell him to hush again, but Albus is facing him and his breath catches and  _ oh- _

Gellert realizes, not for the first time, that Albus is  _ beautiful _ .

The sun hits the gold of the flowers, lights them up around Albus’s head and it looks like halo. His hair is a Phoenix red that glows like fire in the light, eyes a crystal blue that are becoming decidedly more and more nervous the longer Gellert simply stares at him. Gellert’s words are sticky in his throat and he can’t help but just  _ stare. _

And then he realizes something else, and it’s that he has fallen madly in love with his best friend Albus Dumbledore.

And it really shouldn’t be an  _ oh  _ moment because he should have known that he was in love the second he looked into those intelligent blue eyes. Albus was a magnetic force, beautiful and brilliant and powerful, irresistible really. But moments like these, where Albus looks like some untouchable, otherworldly being, it feels like Gellert is falling just a little bit more in love with someone he shouldn’t. 

It feels like an epiphany, and yet still a moment he already knew was going to happen. He likes the idea of loving Albus Dumbledore being a fixed point, something that was bound to happen no matter what. He feels as if Albus is inevitable.

“What?” Albus asks anxiously because Gellert has been silent and in awe, “Do I really look that bad?” He laughs in his self deprecating way, and Gellert snaps out of it.

“No, no.” Gellert quickly says, “You look beautiful.” He says a bit breathlessly, his hand twitching on the impulse to  _ touch  _ but figures that it would be rather inappropriate to act on it.

Albus flushes again, pretty and content and Gellert thinks he’s going to melt, “Ah, thank you.” He mumbles, seeming unsure of how to respond or whether or not to take Gellert seriously. He seems pleased nonetheless.

“Of course.” Gellert says absently, and isn’t strong enough not to give in to the impulse to reach out and gently touch the flowers that sit atop Albus’s head. Albus’s breath catches as Gellert’s fingers slide down, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Albus’s ear, and then he carefully cups Albus’s jaw, touches light and hesitant so Albus can pull away and pretend none of this ever happened if he wanted to.

Gellert’s heart is beating so fast he’s afraid he’s going to pass out, and when Albus presses his face into his palm he’s sure he’s about to die on the spot.

“What are you thinking?” Albus whispers, voice quiet and eyes searching, almost desperate in their attempts to find what they’re looking for. Gellert can feel his jaw work under his hand, Albus’s breath when he exhales.

“I think I’m in love with you.” Gellert answers, because he’s never been patient or a coward, even when he’s on the brink of fainting from nerves he’s unwilling to give into his fear.

Albus swallows, and Gellert can feel that too, can feel as his face warms up. Then in a blur of movement Albus is kissing him, soft and hesitant. Gellert only allows himself to freeze in shock for a split second before he’s responding, putting the slightest bit more force in it, cups Albus’s face and kisses him hard and long enough to make up for all the times he’s wanted to kiss him but hadn’t.

It’s sweet and chaste, and it’s perfect and brilliant and everything and more than Gellert had wanted. Albus sighs and makes quiet little noises in the back of his throat and his hands tangle in Gellert’s hair and he pulls him closer, until there’s hardly any space left between them.

Gellert eventually pulls away, exhales shakily, and he can feel Albus’s breath against his face as he slowly comes back to reality. Albus’s lips are already red and puffy and Gellert smiles.

“Still only  _ think  _ you’re in love with me?” Albus smiles too, fingers pulling through Gellert’s hair and gently scraping at his scalp.

“I  _ know  _ I’m in love with you.” Gellert amends, noses at Albus’s neck, places a soft kiss against his jaw, “I love you, Albus.”

“Oh.” Albus breathes, as if the breath had been punched out of his lungs. 

Gellert looks back up at him and Albus looks awestruck, eyes wide and disbelieving, as if reality has finally come back to him.

“Oh, Gellert, I love you too.” And Albus laughs, “I love you.” He repeats, as if he’s trying out the words and finds he’s quite happy with them.

Gellert kisses him again, can feel the curve of Albus’s smile against his own lips, and he swallows every small little content noise Albus makes.

When they finally stop kissing, when they’re both panting and their lips swollen, they make it back to their respective homes. Gellert is satisfied to see that Albus kept the flowers he had put in his hair. Albus keeps them on his desk in his bedroom, charmed to not wilt or die. 

Everytime he is in Albus’s bedroom he looks at the flowers and remembers their first kiss, the first time they had said they loved each other.

Decades later, when Gellert is alone in his room, and there is no more Albus and there is no more warm summer afternoons, he wonders if Albus still has them.

**Author's Note:**

> So, something short and sweet because I’m in love with Hozier and wanted to write something because he writes some of the most tender and beautiful love songs and I’m an honest romantic at heart and I was just really inspired while listening to him.
> 
> There was a bit of angst at the end, sorry for that.
> 
> Also, I don’t think I’m physically able to write a Grindeldore fic without a bit of face holding lmao.


End file.
